


Shameless

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Non powered au, and Charles is a huge slut, he sleeps with everyone, i jumbled up all the ages, like really, sort of underage but kind of legal depending where you are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sad truth of a child like Charles is that he is used to getting everything he wants, with the exception of love. And so he forgets to want love, and comes to crave other things, other sorts of attentions. Like sex. Particularly sex, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sad truth of a child like Charles is that he is used to getting everything he wants, with the exception of love. And so he forgets to want love, and comes to crave other things, other sorts of attentions. Like sex.

Particularly sex, actually.

He’s young, but he hasn’t been a child for a very long time, no matter how hard he tries to cling to it.

The late night air brings with it a chill that makes Charles pull his sweater tighter around him. He’s propped up against a car- a stranger’s very nice car- his hips pushed out in an attempt to catch the blond’s attention. Attention that wasn’t very forth coming, as Alex was more preoccupied with his skateboard than with Charles’ flirtations.

Sean whooped and tackled the blond as his board met the ground after flipping under his feet.

“Don’t be a moron,” Alex groused, shoving him away. “And keep it down. The neighbors get really bitchy this time of night.”

Darwin laughed, hooking an arm around Sean’s neck and ruffling his red hair. “Yeah, last time that scary old Filipino woman came outside threatening to call the cops, remember?”

Alex rolls his eyes irritably and tucks his board under his arm, stalking off down the street towards his house. Charles perks up, preparing to scurry after. 

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” Charles calls after him, tamping down his eagerness.

The blond pauses, glancing uncomfortably over his shoulder. “Um, no thanks. Not this time. I was thinking of maybe going over to Angel’s.”

“ _Really_ ,” and the dip in Charles’ voice was annoyance, not hurt. Really. Alex was fantastically attractive and attractively fantastic in bed, but Charles certainly didn’t have more investment in their rendezvous than that. Honestly.

Alex finally had the manners to face him for the inevitably explosive conversation. “Look, I didn’t know you planned on coming out with us tonight, okay? And Angel had asked me over earlier. I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s not like we’re exclusive.”

“You actually find her appealing?” Charles sneers in a horribly failed attempt to keep his dignity. “The girl pants after you like she’s a dog in heat.”

Scoffing, Alex turns his back on him again. “Yeah, sure. Like you’re any better!”

“Someone’s feeling self-assured tonight!” Charles crosses his arms, taking dark satisfaction in the way his words echo back at him in the quiet night. “Let’s not be delusional enough to think that you’re the only way I can meet my needs! I could have someone else in a second!”

“Please do!” Alex bites back heatedly. “It’ll get you off my back!”

Charles is about to yell back at him when the door to the house behind him jerks open, and a smooth, deep voice barks out, “Can you all kindly shut the fuck up?”

Turning, another snappy retort died in Charles’ throat. The man standing in the doorway, sleep rumpled and agitated, was quite possibly one of the most alluring things Charles had ever seen. Probably somewhere in his early to mid-thirties, long legs hidden inside baggy plaid sleep pants, broad shoulders and trim waist displayed proudly in a too-tight gray t-shirt.

“I’d do anything for someone who looks like you.”

“Fantastic,” the man replied drily. “That sort of thing usually work for you?”

Charles couldn’t do much but stare a bit dumbly, because, well… Yes. It did work for him. In fact, he rarely had to actually _work_ for it at all. It was actually a bit exciting that he had to now. He should’ve moved on from boys his age a _long_ time ago.

“I know that stupid look on your face,” Alex grunts, storming his way back over to grip tightly at Charles’ wrist. “And I don’t like it. Leave ‘im alone. I’ll drop you off at home on my way to Angel’s.”

The brunet glares and jerks out of his grasp. “I’m flattered by your consideration,” he retorts acidly. “But I rather think I’d like to stay.”

“You don’t even _know_ him!”

“I’ll get to know him,” Charles smirks devilishly. “I think that’s the point.”

The man at the door runs a hand tiredly over the side of his face. “I don’t recall saying you were welcome.”

“I assure you I’m quite the… _Pleasurable_ houseguest.”

He snorts, “You are a child.”

“I’m Charles.”

“Cute,” he mocks derisively.

“Thank you.”

“Not- No, I wasn’t- I don’t care anymore. I’m going to bed. I suggest you run off with your friend.”

Alex grabs him more insistently, nearly tugging him off balance. “There, see? Even me and the murderous looking stranger agree. Let’s go. You proved your point. I don’t think he’s even into that sort of thing, Charles.”

“I’m fairly certain that if he wasn’t,” Charles began coquettishly. “He wouldn’t be standing outside in the cold playing this little game. He’d have slammed the door immediately.”

The man blinks more than a little put out, as if he’s just found himself caught in a very well hidden trap. And then the door abruptly slams shut.

Charles throws his head back in a laugh, evading Alex to all but skip up to the doorstep. “I’ll just wait out here for you until you decide to let me in. I’m quite persistent-“ He checks the mailbox for the name painted across it in sprawling letters- “Mr. Lehnsherr. I could be out here all night if you don’t change your mind. Wouldn’t want to be the cause of a poor young boy catching pneumonia.”

The door cracks open a sliver, just enough for a breathtakingly graygreenblue eye to peek out. “Not helping your case. Go away.”

“I’m sixteen,” he wheedles laughingly as the door clicks shut again. “Not too young, I assure you.”

A beat, and nothing.

“I know you’re still at the door, Mr. Lehnsherr. Don’t be so difficult. I could start shouting for you and wake up the whole street. That might get the neighbors wondering why such a young boy is so desperate for your intention.”

He peers out again, eye narrowed in suspicion. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m afraid I can be terribly manipulative when I want something.”

“I noticed,” he grumbled, swinging the door open just enough for a body to squeeze through. “Well? Quickly, before someone sees.”

With a triumphant skip to his step Charles bounds into the house, ignoring the indignant shouts from Alex in the background. “So what’s your name? Or would you like it if I kept calling you _Mr. Lehnsherr_?”

“Erik,” he replies equal parts annoyed and intrigued.

Charles gives him a slow smile, stepping forward into his personal space. “Erik. I like it.”

“What are you doing?” Erik growls, placing a hand at his pale collar to push him away.

“I thought that much was obvious. I certainly didn’t come here for a cup of tea.”

Erik hums impatiently, slipping around Charles to pad over to the closet and pull out a wool blanket. “Good, I haven’t got any. I haven’t got _anything_ for you.”

“You can’t seem to make up your mind, can you?” Charles asks irritably.

“I never had any intention of taking you to bed, Charles. I let you inside to shut you up, to help you teach your boyfriend a lesson for taking you for granted-“

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I don’t care.” Erik thrust the blanket against Charles chest. “You can sleep on the couch.”

Charles batted the blanket away. “You’re kidding!”

“Or you can leave right now and ask your friend to drive you home on the way to his booty call.”

Glaring petulantly Charles picks the blanket back off the floor and all but throws himself down on the couch. “Suddenly you’re a lot less attractive.”

He doesn’t mean it.

“Good,” Erik replies, stalking off to his bedroom to get back to his much needed sleep.

He doesn’t mean it either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It definitely took a lot longer than anticipated to get the second part up, so I hope people are still interested! Midterms just came out of nowhere and crushed me! I'm so sorry! *falls to your feet in shame* Anyway, if you like it, comments would be lovely and inspiring.

When Erik wakes up it’s much like it always is. A slow bleed into consciousness, those blissful few seconds of serenity before responsibility and bitterness rush in. But today is different as well. Today there’s a warm, firm weight settled on his lower back, and Erik rolls over and flutters open sleep-blurred eyes to find a boy smiling down at him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The smile doesn’t slip off of Charles’ too red lips as he wriggles his hips against Erik’s. “Good morning to you, too.”

Erik sighs, gaze rolling up to the ceiling to curse whatever god is sitting on a throne laughing at him. “How long have you been here?”

“Here?” Charles waves a hand vaguely around the room. “Or _here_?” He grinds his hips down, making the older man’s eyes cross.

“Either- _ah_ \- Both!” His hands fly out to grasp Charles, stopping his slow torture. “Both.”

Charles dances his fingertips across the muscles of Erik’s forearms, tense where they work towards holding the younger boy in place. “You were yelling last night, it woke me up. I came in to see if you were alright and found you asleep. So I slipped in next to you to see if it’d calm you down.”

“How altruistic of you,” Erik drawls, resigning himself to a morning of manipulation and childish persistence.

“I thought so,” he grins. “You’re quite clingy when you sleep, you know? Anyway, I moved _here_ when you started to make those snuffling noises like you were going to wake up.”

“But _why_?”

Charles leans forward, nose brushing against Erik’s, looking up through his lashes. “I thought I’d give you a proper wakeup call.” He snakes his tongue out to prod at Erik’s lips, undeterred by the lack of response.

“Don’t you have school?” Erik grunts, glaring at the bedside clock proudly displaying that it’s a quarter past nine.

Charles wisely chooses not to mention the fact that it couldn’t matter less whether he shows up to school or not. He’s been years ahead of his peers since he can remember, and the only reason he hasn’t graduated already is for social reasons. Not that his social life is going particularly well at the moment. “Don’t you have _work_?”

Erik wisely chooses not to mention the fact that he would love to be at work right now, but going isn’t a particularly legal option at the moment. Not that Stark had wanted to suspend him and threaten to physically remove him from the premises, but when your top engineer punches your top investor in the face, you have to do _something_.

They both pause as they hear the front door open- Charles from confusion and Erik from a slithering sense of dread.

“Erik!” She calls from the kitchen, the sound of keys hitting the counter. “Get your lazy ass out of bed! I brought coffee!”

Erik, for the most part, overreacts when he tosses Charles on to the floor. “Raven! Just a second!”

Charles, to be fair, is still confused when he scrambles off the floor and runs into the kitchen to make sure his ears haven’t deceived him. “Raven?”

“Charles?” Raven pauses, bagel halfway to her mouth. Her face darkens when, sleep rumpled and panicked, Erik comes running after Charles and nearly bowls him over. “ _Erik_.”

“It’s not what it-“

Charles cuts him off with an indignant shove. “Are you fucking my sister?!”

“I really have _no_ obligation to you, Charles-“

For all that Raven is the paragon of femininity, with soft curves and sweet smiles and doe eyes, when she punches Erik in the shoulder it’s bound to leave a hefty bruise. “Are you fucking my _little brother_?!”

“I didn’t know he was- Wait, stop!” Erik holds his hands up in surrender, shrinking away from the siblings teaming together to burn a hole through him with their gaze. “I’m not fucking _anybody_!”

“Then what is my _sixteen year old brother_ doing walking out of your bedroom?!” Raven screeches at the same time Charles demands, “What’s she doing with a key to your _house_?!”

Erik groans and slips past them to the Styrofoam cup of coffee sitting on the counter. “Will both of you harpies get off my back?”

Raven reaches out and snatches the cup back before Erik gets the chance to take a sip. “Erik Lehnsherr, you better start explaining this very second, or so help me God I will call your mother.”

Slumping against the counter, Erik gives the steaming cup a wistful look. “I just gave him a place to stay last night. That’s all. Why are you interrogating _me_?”

“Because Charles is a child and he’s allowed to do stupid shit, like try to seduce my thirty-six year old boss.” She acquiesces the coffee, much to Erik’s relief. “However, my boss is a grown ass man who will get into a shit ton of trouble if he starts mooning over my brother.”

Charles huffs, rummaging through the bag of bagels on the counter. “I’m hardly a _child_.”

“Yes you are,” Erik mumbles into his cup, and Raven sighs. At least that’s **something** they can agree on.

There are always those two people in everybody’s life that absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, ever, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, meet. For Raven, that would be Erik and Charles. Unfortunately, the worst has happened and it seems like she’s a few hours too late to prevent it. The best she can do now is damage control. They can never see each other again.

It’s not so much Charles she’s worried about. Sure, she has that over-protective sibling instinct like any good sister would, but Charles doesn’t let anybody push him around. He’s brilliant, and charming, and beautiful, and he’s well fucking aware of all of that. As much as she loves the kid, he’s temptation on legs for someone, like, say, _Erik_. And Charles, for all of his redeeming qualities, would rip the man apart.

Charles is about sex, and now, and fast, and moving on, and take, take, taking what he can get. And he can get whatever he wants. It’s a proven fact that Charles Xavier doesn’t know what ‘no’ means, to no fault of his own.

Erik, on the other hand, is a little emotionally volatile at the moment. It’s not just that his wife left him six months ago, or that she took the twins with her when she fucked off to the other side of the country. It’s not even that the man who singlehandedly ran his father’s company to the ground, resulting in a childhood of misery and unhappy parents, is now throwing a ton of money at his current employer. Or that said liferuiner is the reason Tony Stark had to indefinitely suspend him for snapping and punching the asshole in the jaw. It’s not that his mother just moved back in with him, and now she deals a healthy dose of Jewish mother guilt on him every chance she gets out of extreme love and devotion. Those are pretty bad on their own.

It’s that, despite gruff appearances and serious emotional constipation, when Erik cares about somebody it’s with his whole being. It would be so easy for him to care for Charles, to fall in love with him. And Charles would be incapable of loving him back.

So really, it’s only right if Raven tries her best to create an impenetrable rift between them.

“When’s your mother getting back from Germany?” She asks, propping her elbows up on the counter.

Erik rolls his eyes, though his affection peeks through. “Next week. Just enough time for me to sterilize the entire house and still have her swat me over the head with a dish towel and call me a slob.”

Charles snorts, halting in the midst of shredding a bagel. “You live with your _mother_?”

“My mother lives with _me_ ,” he grits out the correction, knocking the ruined breakfast out of the boy’s hands. “She’s lonely.”

“Lame,” Charles half-sings, an over-confident grin hanging lopsided on his mouth.

Erik narrows his eyes, ruffling Charles' hair just on the wrong side of condescending. “Brat.”

Something inside Raven shifts, settles, and relaxes. Maybe she doesn’t have to worry after all.

“You like it,” Charles purrs, and Erik isn’t quick enough to hide the heat that flares in his eyes.

Hackles raised again, Raven grabs Charles by the collar of his shirt, hauling him towards the door. “Come on, Charles. Now. And maybe I won’t tell mother that you didn’t come home last night.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, this hasn't taken me a month! There's no Charles/Erik interaction in this one, but I promise the next one will have some. I'm attempting to go for the whole slow burn thing, unless my own desires weaken my resolve and have them jumping at each other like starved weasels. But anyway...

Charles lasts a good week and a half before he corners Raven in the kitchen one night. “So Erik, you work with him?”

“I’m his assistant,” Raven answers shortly, sparing him a suspicious glance as she reaches blindly into the fridge for the milk.

“I thought you got fired.” Charles ignores her indignant squawk as he hops up onto the counter, swinging his legs.

“I’m on a short leave of absence!” She corrects him slamming a glass down onto the island and practically ripping the cap off the milk. “And it has _nothing_ to do with me.”

Charles hides a grin as she misses the rim of the glass in her outraged frenzy, having to sop the mess up with a handful of paper towels. “So did _Erik_ get fired?”

“Erik is none of your business, Charles.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably put you in an uncomfortable position,” Charles’ tone has all the sickly sweetness of false sincerity. “He is your boss, of course- you _do_ have an obligation to him. I could always talk to him myself, knowing where he lives. Provided we don’t get distracted.”

Raven slams the refrigerator shut with unnecessary force. “I grew up in the same house you did, Charles, I know how to manipulate like the best of them. It’s not going to work. I’m through talking about this with you.”

“So that’s it then?” He asks incredulously. “You just forbid me to see him and then walk off imperiously?”

“No,” she pauses in the doorway. “I _am_ smart enough to know that if I demand you never see him again you’ll somehow manage to have his pants around his ankles by the end of the night. I have zero pull in what you do. I can, however, tell _him_ to never speak to you again.”

Charles gasped, sliding off the counter to run over and tug desperately at Raven’s hands. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would!” She swats him away irritably. “And why shouldn’t I? He’s _two_ decades older than you, Charles! I don’t care how much of a dirty slut you are, but there have to be _some_ limitations.”

Switching gears, Charles pushes ahead. “Oh, so now you suddenly care about me! You left me here all alone in this big, awful house with a cold mother and a conniving-“

“Shut it,” she rolls her eyes. “That line barely worked the first time, now you’re just beating a dead horse.”

Charles visibly deflates. “Fine,” he starts, out of suitable arguments or tricks. He’ll just have to see Erik behind Raven’s back. “I suppose-“

“And don’t try and see him behind my back,” Raven cuts him off knowingly. “I manage his schedule. I know what he gets up to.”

Narrowing his eyes, Charles only sees this as a further challenge. “Have you considered that once I try, and I mean _really_ try, his desire for me might outweigh how much he pretends not to be afraid of you?”

Raven nearly stumbles over her own feet as she stops abruptly on her way up the stairs. “Shit.”

* * *

Erik lasts about halfway through checking his emails before he gives up, closing the window and staring back at Raven, who’s perched on the side of his desk. “What?”

“What what?”

He levels her with a glare, pointedly shutting his laptop. “You’ve been staring at me for the past half-hour. Clearly something’s on your mind.”

“Can’t I make eyes at my handsome boss without having ulterior motives?” She bats her lashes with affected innocence.

Erik’s face doesn’t change from its stern set. “Absolutely not.”

Raven knows that Erik doesn’t like when people beat around the bush, so she quickly cuts to the chase. “I think you need to start dating again. Even if it’s just casual. Even just going out and getting laid. Anyone... Almost anyone.”

“Is this about your brother?”

Erik would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about Charles. Just once or twice. A day. It gets worse at night when he’s shrouded in darkness, suffocated by the quiet of his practically empty house, hands creeping beneath the covers to touch himself with lazy strokes as images of too blue eyes and too red lips and too pale skin flash behind his eyes.

And of course there was the guilt. Erik had certainly been attracted to men before, but they were, well, _men_. Even when Erik _was_ sixteen he’d never been attracted to someone so young.

“Why would this be about Charles?” Raven replies with forced casualness, and Erik almost buys in. “I’m just concerned about you.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

Erik pushes back his chair and past Raven to head over to his liquor cabinet and pour himself a drink. “Casual or otherwise, I don’t think me dating again is best for anyone.”

“It’s only three in the afternoon,” Raven scolds prying the glass out of his hands. “And why not? You scowl like a bastard, but you’re really a great guy.”

“Magda said, and I quote, that I’m ‘a robot who lacks the capacity to feel anything but rage.’ That’s not what most people are looking for nowadays.”

Raven fights back the urge to call his ex-wife a slew of things that would earn her a disapproving glance, and instead settles for, “Spoken like the true words of a woman who never really knew you.”

It’s no secret that they had gotten married way too young and way too fast. Twenty-one and Erik worshipped the ground that Magda walked on. Yeah, sure, Raven could see how a girl would fall for that sort of attention, but not enough to get hitched after four months.

Raven isn’t entirely convinced that some part of Erik back then hadn’t manically craved for the heteronormative mushy romance novel love his parents had. Erik was nothing if not faithful throughout the years, but Raven still noticed when his eyes strayed, and he was definitely tipping the scale on the side of **_gay_**.

“I think you loved her as much as you could,” Raven continued. “I just think it’s also time you had someone you could love with all of you.”

Erik, as uncomfortable with Raven’s schmoopyness as ever, resigns himself with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not making any promises, but… I’ll _think_ about maybe possibly dating again.”

On the outside Raven flashes him an encouraging grin, but on the inside she’s doing somersaults. If she can just get Erik on the path to settling down, then Charles won’t be any problem at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet isn't very strong, so I have trouble replying to comments, but I just want to thank everyone who is interested and comments, kudos, and bookmarks! You guys are the best, and feedback always has me excited to continue.

While Raven generally prided herself on her astuteness when it came to setting people up, Erik was something of a mystery. Sure, she knew what kind of guy he liked to _look_ at, but not what kind of guy he liked to actually _talk_ to. So at this point she was just taking a shot in the dark.

And she missed the mark with Janos Quested.

When he first down across from Erik in the dimly lit restaurant, Erik thought that Raven quite possibly couldn’t have picked a more perfect man. With that beautifully tanned skin, silky long hair, smoldering eyes, and a sharp well-fitting suit he looked _gorgeous_. The problem, of course, was that he knew it.

From the second that Janos opened his mouth everything was about him. Erik tried to allow some leeway, because really, everyone’s favorite subject was themselves. When dessert came around and Erik still hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise, he resigned himself to the fact that this relationship would have to meet its end immediately.

Well, soon, at least. Erik could probably stand to invite him back to his place for the night. At least there wouldn’t be any talking involved.

Then again, Erik wouldn't be surprised if Janos were the sort of man to call out his own name in bed.

However, Erik _did_ own a gag.

Another problem presented itself when, practically running from his car in sexual anticipation, Erik and Janos discover a sixteen-year-old boy lounging on the doorstep.

And _God_ does he look good. Erik thinks that it must be intentional, the way that the blue of the tight t-shirt manages not only to bring out the ridiculous blue of his eyes, but also contrast his pale skin in a way that is sinfully mouthwatering. And those jeans, dark and clinging to what look like strong, firm thighs. Erik’s only complaint is that, sitting down, his ass isn’t on display.

“Charles,” he tries not to swoon. Then the situation sinks in and he’s anything _but_ swooning (well okay, he still is a little). “Charles! You can’t just show up here whenever it suits you! My mother is coming home in a few days!”

Janos, who had been miraculously silent until this point, turns to Erik with the arch of a judgmental brow. “You live with your mother?”

“His mother lives with _him_ ,” Charles corrects, eyes going sharp and possessive.

“Who is he?” Janos asks with disproportionate indignity, considering that he and Erik had only been on one very awful date.

Charles hops to his feet, crossing his arms across his chest as he rakes over Janos with a scathing look. “Who am _I_? Who are _you_?”

Erik drags a palm over his face in exasperation. “Charles, this is Janos, my date. Janos, this is Charles, my… Nothing.”

As Erik goes to unlock his door, Janos shoots Charles a triumphant look behind his back. It’s only Charles’ rotten luck that has Erik catching him as he sticks his tongue out in response.

Shuffling in to the house behind the two older men, Charles hides his embarrassment behind boldness. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything between you two. You certainly look _very_ interested in each other. Of course I could always join in.”

The idea sounds incredibly appealing to Erik for all of point-two seconds, until he remembers that Raven might actually commit murder if she found out that Erik involved her younger brother in a threesome. It also doesn’t help that imagining Janos’ hands on Charles’ smooth skin sends all-consuming waves of jealousy through Erik’s gut.

“I think not.” With a hand pressed to Charles’ lower back he leads him into the kitchen and away from Janos. “I’m going to call Raven and she’s going to come pick you up.”

Charles turns and presses against Erik’s side, sliding a hand agonizingly slow across his stomach. “And what if you didn’t? What if you called a cab and sent that prat on his way?”

“You don’t know him. He could be a lovely person.”

Snorting, Charles nuzzles in closer. “With hair like that? I don’t think so.”

Erik tries very hard not to revel in the intoxicating warmth that rolls off of Charles’ body. “I think his hair is sexy.”

Red lips push out in a pout. “Sexier than I am?”

Trying to ignore the fact that a bratty little face has gotten him harder than a car ride full of Janos’ wandering hands could, Erik reaches around Charles for the phone. “I’m calling your sister now.”

Charles sighs and covers Erik’s hand on the phone. “And I suppose she’s the reason you went on this date, then?”

“I- Well, it’s just time that I started again.”

“Sure,” he gives Erik a condescending laugh. “Interesting timing though, don’t you think?”

The older man tries to school away his confused look. “No…?”

“It’s just,” Charles pries the phone from Erik’s hand and sets it on the counter before resettling his own hand on its previous spot low on Erik’s stomach. “You meet me, and suddenly Raven thinks it’s due time to whore you out to all her friends.”

“It’s not like that,” Erik disagrees. And he really hopes it’s not. He does understand Raven’s reservations, but Erik’s a grown man and he can control himself. He’d like to think there’s _some_ measure of trust between him and his assistant.

Charles hums in amusement. “Of course it is. Tell me Erik,” and damned if his blood doesn’t turn to molten lava at the sound of his name on Charles’ tongue. “Why do you think she’s so determined to keep us apart?”

“You’re her brother,” Erik replies in a husky whisper. “She doesn’t want me to hurt you.”

“Oh, darling,” Charles drawls, his breath hot in Erik’s ear. “You can’t hurt an Xavier.”

Erik frowns, turning his head a fraction of an inch to meet Charles’ eyes, which is a mistake in and of itself. “All the money in the world can’t keep you from having feelings.”

“Doesn’t it though?”

“So if that’s not the reason,” Erik starts, taking a step back to escape Charles, but succeeding only in trapping himself in a corner. “What is?”

“She sees something between us Erik,” Charles practically sings. “Something visceral and explosive. It’s undeniable. So why are you trying to deny it?”

Charles’ hand slips down until his fingertips dip just below the waistband of Erik’s jeans, and Erik forgets how to breathe. “You still haven’t told me why.”

The boy tries to snake his hand farther down, but stops when Erik grabs his wrist. Rolling his eyes, Charles drops his arms at his sides. “Because she thinks _I’m_ going to hurt _you_.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” Erik splutters, outraged that anyone might think a _boy_ could get the best of him.

“Exactly,” Charles beams. “It’s just sex, isn’t it? No one says feelings have to get involved on either side. She doesn’t have to worry about you. You’re a big boy, aren’t you Erik?” His eyes slither down to the prominent bulge in Erik’s pants. “In more ways than one.”

Janos appears in the doorway, a scowl twisting his handsome features. “Erik, get rid of the boy and come _fuck_ me.”

Erik quickly suppresses the thought that bratty only looks good on Charles. “I think I’ll just call you a cab.” At Charles’ smug look he adds, “And call Raven.”

If Erik spends the rest of the night jacking off to thoughts of Janos and Charles worshipping his body, then no one has to know. And if they did, they couldn’t really blame him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback! You da best.

Some days, she thinks, it feels like the universe is conspiring against Raven. And, her bitter, traitorous brain continues, it feels like Charles has all the luck. Karma must be on vacation.

The day started well enough for her. She had a reason to get out of the house, at least. Pepper had called her that morning, practically begging her for a favor. A favor she’d get paid for since, technically, she wasn’t _not_ working for Stark Industries at the moment. And she liked Tony well enough, even if he could be a pain in the ass, so she didn’t really mind driving three hours out into some suburb in the middle of nowhere to pick him up and drag him back to responsibility and away from some All-American piece of ass.

Raven didn’t even mind sassing said All-American piece of ass, Steve, even when he turned out to be a really sweet guy who insisted that he attempted to keep Tony in line. Raven definitely didn’t mind when Steve offered her lunch, despite the fact that Tony grinned at her smugly the entire time. In fact, she felt pretty good after bitching at Tony for the millionth time over how he’s been treating Erik.

Raven _did_ start to mind we she got in her car, with Tony in the passenger seat, and it wouldn’t turn on. Apparently, in the short hour and a half that she’s been at Steve’s house, a very important, very hard to obtain part of her car had miraculously broken, and of course Tony couldn’t fix it, don’t be ridiculous.

It wasn’t even that her car was broken down, because she had no doubt Tony would compensate her (as it wasn’t exactly a secret that he was the one who broke it in the first place, the brat). It’s that Charles had to be picked up from school in a couple of hours. Which, under normal circumstances, no big deal! However, her mother and stepfather were fucked off in some other country, all of Raven’s friends traveled by means of public transportation, and most of the people she worked with would laugh condescendingly in her face if she asked for a favor.

And so that really only left Erik.

The phone only rang two short trills before, “Hello?”

“Edie!” Raven coos delightedly. “You’re home!”

“Raven? It’s been too long! You’ll have to come over for dinner soon!”

“I’d love to, but you should probably ask Erik, first,” she laughs.

Edie scoffs on the other end of the line. “Nonsense. Besides, he could use the company. All he ever does is mope around this big house all by himself. He needs friends now more than ever. Friends and dates. If I thought it would help I’d start setting him up myself, but he’d just scare them away with that scowl of his.”

“You’re right,” Raven sighs. “Janos still won’t talk to me after their date.”

“His problem is that he’s just too stubborn. He’s decided that he’s going to be alone, and now nothing can change that. No one should live that way. Especially him. He’s only thirty-six! He has his whole life ahead of him! He’s still handsome and virile! And the lack of intimacy is only making him more of a grouch.”

“Mama!” Erik shouts, mortified, as he comes around the corner. “Who are you talking to?!”

“Just Raven, Schatz,” she waves him off.

“I hope you weren’t talking about _me_.” 

“Of course I was,” Edie rolls her eyes. “Who else is in my life? Everyone else I love is far away or dead. Get a husband and maybe-”

“Give me the phone!” Erik gently wrestles the landline from his mother, using his considerable height to his advantage.

Edie glares, shuffling off towards the kitchen. “Didn’t I teach you manners?”

“Yes, Mama.” And people say Jewish guilt is a myth. “Sorry.”

“Never let anyone you do business with see you with your mother,” Raven drawls over the line. “They’ll stop cowering in fear of you immediately.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans. “What do you want?”

“Well I _was_ having a lovely conversation with your mother about your sex life-“

“Raven!”

She laughs, grating at Erik’s nerves. “Okay, okay. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“The kind I’ll probably regret later,” Raven answers candidly. “I need you to pick Charles up from school.”

“What? Can’t he drive himself?”

Raven snorts in amusement. “He can do a lot of things, but driving certainly isn’t one of them.”

“Tell him to take the bus.”

“He’d need a note for a bus pass,” she explains. 

“Doesn’t he have any friends to drive him?” Erik asks annoyed.

“Have you met Charles?”

Erik exhales heavily through his nose. “Right. Good point.”

* * *

“What are you doing later?”

Charles looks up slowly from the book in his lap, an incredulous glare fixed on the boy standing over him. “Oh, I’m sorry, is Angel busy tonight?”

“Are you seriously still hung up on that?” Alex sighs, plopping down on the steps next to Charles. “That was forever ago. And I didn’t get mad when you took up with Darwin a few months ago!”

“Mad? Who says I’m mad?” Charles blinks innocently, putting on a pleasant face. “Do whatever you’d like. Whoever you’d like. I’m over it.”

Alex frowns. “Over _me_ you mean.”

“I’m afraid so,” Charles replies demurely.

“Well I call bullshit,” Alex growls. “You told me that no one ever makes you come as hard as I do.”

Charles laughs patronizingly. “That was then. This is now.”

“And you don’t need me anymore.” Alex narrows his eyes, trying to catch Charles in his lie.

“I don’t. I’m with someone new. Someone much more experienced. You’re wonderful, but he gives me everything I need, so really, why bother?”

“Why _bother_?!”

A gunmetal gray Ferrari pulls up in front of the school’s steps, and for all that Charles is surprised to see Erik behind the wheel, he doesn’t show it. He bounces off without another word to Alex and all but throws himself in the passenger seat. He grabs Erik by the shirt and levels him with a serious look.

“I need you to kiss me.”

“ _Charles_ -“

“No, really. This isn’t me hitting on you,” he assures. “It’s very important. Alex is right there, you see. I might have told him that we’re currently in a mutually beneficial relationship of fantastic sex.”

“Why would you do that?”

He shrugs, pointedly not looking over Erik’s shoulder and the blond. “I can be a rather spiteful human being when my pride is wounded.”

Erik knows a thing or two about wounded pride. “This’ll be two favors I’ve done for you, just to snub some boy.”

“I’m well aware. I’ll owe you.”

The older man leans forward and crashes his lips down over Charles’, and Charles doesn’t know what feels better- the sick satisfaction of watching Alex’s face flush red with anger, or Erik’s lips themselves. And Erik really isn’t pulling punches, slipping his tongue past Charles’ lips and mapping out the contours of his mouth.

Erik, for his part, gets a little wrapped up in what was supposed to be an act. He hadn’t really considered that Charles might be wonderfully good at this- wrapping his short fingers in Erik’s hair and tugging _just_ hard enough, nipping and sucking at his lower lip at all the right increments.

There’s an instant spark, a flare of heat the pools in more than just their groins. But both choose to ignore it. They pull away, blinking dazedly at each other.

Charles clears his throat, smoothing away nonexistent wrinkles on his shirt. “You’re driving a Ferrari.”

“I am,” Erik replies too roughly.

“What happened to your Honda Civic?”

Erik turns his eyes to the road, putting pressure on the accelerator. “That was my mother’s car.”

“You have a Ferrari, and you were going around in your _mother’s_ car?”

“This is a pretentious overindulgent gift from my boss,” Erik reasons. “So yes, when she’s away I drive hers.”

Charles rests his cheek against the headrest, staring intently at Erik’s profile. “Well I like this one better.”

“A boy like you would,” Erik dismisses.

Casually, Charles comments, “I want you to fuck my across the hood.”

Erik almost rearends the Jetta that stops at the redlight. “Don’t talk that way.”

“Why not?” Charles inquires sincerely. “You like it. I can tell. Your erection’s about to burst your zipper.”

The older man makes a point of not shifting to try and conceal it. “I like a lot of things. Like beer and Hugh Grant films. But self control is important. I have responsibilities. I couldn’t sit around drinking and watching About A Boy all day.”

“You could, seeing as you’ve been suspended from work. For punching someone. How much self control did you employ, then?”

Erik’s grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Where’s your house?”

“You can take me to Raven’s apartment.”

“Can I really take you to her apartment, or do you just want me to?”

Charles’ jaw drops indignantly. “I’m not a _liar_.”

“Tell that to that boy back there.”

The boy’s resentment fades away into a heady satisfaction. “You’re just as awful as I am.”

Awful. Yes. Erik certainly _feels_ awful. Awful for wanting to unzip his pants and pull over that stupidly red mouth to-

“I’m much worse,” he grunts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I kept rewriting parts of this one because I wanted to do it especially well. Tell me if you like it! Feedback always inspires me!

Azazel is, perhaps, worse than Janos. Granted, he rarely talks about himself. He just spends the entire fifty-seven minutes they’re at dinner talking about Raven.

“Why did you even agree to this date in the first place?” Erik barks as the waitress leaves the check.

The man across from him doesn’t startle, keeping his face unsettlingly neutral. “To please Raven.”

“Are you even _gay_?” Erik huffs, annoyed, as he pulls out his wallet.

“When the situation calls for it,” he shrugs.

The only good thing Erik gets out of the evening is that perhaps he’s not the _worst_ at dating. That title's saved for shady Russians who pretend to be gay to impress women.

* * *

It seems that Charles has seen Erik’s kiss as encouragement. Under normal circumstances, it’s natural to assume. Honestly, Erik felt rather encouraged for a few brief (blissful, heavenly, brain-melting) minutes. 

But these were not normal circumstances, and Erik didn’t know how better to get that point across.

Charles, feeling wrongly encouraged, only doubled his efforts.

Erik, feeling jumpy and paranoid, made a point of always being the one to answer the phone and the door. There was one terrifying instance when his mother got to the phone in the kitchen at the same time as Erik answered it in the living room, and it was only quick thinking that had Erik screaming _sorry wrong number bye_ into the receiver over Charles’ terrible porn moan.

Unfortunately, the next advance comes to the door without a knock or a ring of the bell, and Edie stumbles upon it as she’s leaving the house to go for a walk down to the park. The only fortunate thing is that it’s a rather tame display of affection, even if it is a little extravagant. A bouquet of what seems to be at least three dozen deep red lush roses sits on the doorstep in a large crystal vase, and it makes the breath stutter in Edie’s lungs.

She picks up the vase and runs it into the kitchen. The arrangement is too big to be used as a center piece on their small table, but Edie is too busy searching for a card to notice.

“Erik!” His mother all but squeals. “Erik someone sent you flowers!”

He wearily shuffles into the room. “How do you know they’re not for you?”

“You’re name is on them,” she rolls her eyes impatiently. “One of those dates must have really liked you! You told me they were all a bust.”

“They were,” Erik replies, realization making his shoulders slump. Charles wouldn’t know subtle if it ironically came up and punched him in the face. 

“You know who they’re from, don’t you?” Erik is torn between being pleased that his mother looks so happy and wanting to jump in front of an eighteen-wheeler.

And, because Erik has never been able to lie to his mother, he just sighs. “I do.”

“Well? What’s he like?”

“A pain in the ass,” Erik replies, picking up the vase to move it to a more unobtrusive place.

Edie swats him on the arm. “Be nice! That man spent a lot of money on those for you.”

“It’s not like I asked him to,” he grumbled. “Besides, just because he’s taken an interest in me doesn’t mean I’ve taken one in him.”

“Sure,” she snorts.

“ _Mama_.”

“What?”

“ _Stop_.”

“Me stop?” Edie folds her arms over her chest. “ _You_ stop!”

“Me stop _what_?”

Edie pins him with a glare- the same one that Erik used to use at work when he felt like scaring the interns. “Stop trying to be unhappy. You’ve always done this- you find a man who’s interested in you and you go out of your way to find something wrong with him.”

“I- Well, _maybe_ I’ve done that on occasion,” Erik admits. “But not this time! This time I’m really not interested!” Or he shouldn’t be.

“After all these years you still think you can lie to your mother,” she shakes her head, moving to the sink to start on the dirty dishes and keep herself occupied.

Erik groans and follows her over, turning off the sink when the water flow is too loud to carry a serious conversation over it. “I haven’t lied to you since I was sixteen.”

“Then you’re in denial,” Edie says with finality.

“I’m-“

“Look in the mirror next time you talk about that man. Even when you’re complaining about him you’ve got more fondness for him than you’ve ever had for Magda.”

* * *

“What did you do?” Raven sticks her head through the cracked open door of her guest bedroom.

Charles quickly snaps his laptop shut. He’d finished his homework hours ago, and left to his own devices on the internet… Well… At least his hand wasn’t down his pants.

“What do you mean? I’ve been in here all day.”

Suspicion narrows her eyes into slits. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t done something. Erik’s here.”

“Really?” Charles immediately perks up. Perhaps he won’t need porn this afternoon after all. “To see me?”

“To talk to you. And he insists that’s _all_ he wants.” Raven gives him a pointed look. “But I know you have different ideas, and I know how you are. Just remember I’ll be right outside the door, and if I hear anything suspicious I will bring in a bucket of ice and throw it at the both of you.” 

Charles waves her off dismissively. “Yes, yes. I promise. No sex in your apartment.”

“No sex ever,” Raven grumbles under her breath as she slips out of the room.

Erik takes Raven’s place in the doorway, and Charles has never wished he could conceal his emotions more. He wants to play it cool, but his stomach flips and tangles in knots, and the only way his excitement could be more obvious would be if he sprouted a happily wagging tail.

“We need to discuss some things,” Erik begins, voice low and controlled and face frustratingly blank. He moves further into the room at Charles nod, and shuts the door behind him.

The click of the door gives the atmosphere of the room a charge. Charles sits up straighter, flicking his tongue out over his suddenly dry lips. “Yes Erik?”

Erik ignores the beautiful way his name sounds from that mouth. “You have to stop. Stop everything. The calls, the presents, the flirting.”

Charles is no stranger to rejection. He could probably write the book on it- _How To Drive People Away Without Even Trying_. He’s fairly certain the only person who gives two shits about him is his sister. And sure, when he was kid he bent over backwards to try and please his mother, but it became clear fairly quickly that his efforts were futile. So it’s been a while since he’s really, _really_ tried to win someone over.

And that’s why it hurts so bad this time. Why it feels like his heart has dropped down to his stomach, and a vice is tightening around his lungs, and a million little pins are pricking at his eyes and forming tears. He gave everything he had this time around; it’s not his fault he’s not enough.

“Oh.” His voice cracks on the one small word and he wants to kick himself. As if Erik needed another reminder that he was a stupid, weak, child.

Erik’s demeanor thaws a fraction, and if there’s one thing Charles hates more than rejection, it’s pity. “It’s nothing against _you_ , Charles.”

“Of course not,” Charles scoffs, turning his face away to try and hide the tear that’s worked its way down his cheek. “What could possibly be undesirable about someone like me?”

Charles can feel the dip in the bed as Erik takes a seat behind him, but he can’t manage to muster the enthusiasm to manipulate him into a potentially sexual situation.

“I mean it,” Erik says softly. “If things were different… I… Listen, you know you’re gorgeous. Men would die to look like you. They’d probably kill for a second of your time. It’s not that you’re undesirable.”

“It’s just that I don’t happen to be desirable enough for _you_.” Charles turns to face him, his unbearably blue eyes even more devastating rimmed in tears.

If only Charles knew how wrong he was. “Do you understand what would happen if someone thought we were together?”

“If someone ever found out I’d handle it. My family has ways of keeping a scandal quiet.”

Erik shakes his head in genuine disbelief. “You really think you’re untouchable.”

“It’s better than you thinking everyone’s out to hurt you.” Charles moves to stand, but Erik grabs his wrist and tugs him back down.

“Someday you’ll learn that even if it isn’t someone’s intention, they will inevitably end up hurting you.” Erik’s eyes are steely and hard, but Charles can see the cracks in the foundation. 

Charles twists his wrist out of Erik’s loose hold and moves to twine their fingers together. “You won’t hurt me. I won’t hurt you.”

Erik laughs mirthlessly. “If we were to be together all we would do is hurt, and you know it.”

“Maybe it would be worth it,” Charles is reduced to whispering. The conversation has become too precious, too delicate to risk speaking too loud. “You act as though I’ve never been hurt before, but I think I might be as familiar with hurt as I am oxygen. Yes, sometimes things will break you apart so unbearably that you think you’ll never fit together the same way again. But there’s a good hurt, too I think. A sort of hurt that only makes you remember how happy you were. That’s an ache to cherish, not regret.”

If Erik were capable, he might swoon. “I think you read too many romance novels.”

Charles can’t help but smile. “Don’t condescend to me just because you know I’m right.”

“I know no such thing.”

Charles laughs, sliding closer to Erik, their thighs touching, and curling his arms around the older man’s neck. “Kiss me.”

“What’s your excuse this time?” Erik challenges breathily. “There’s no one around to get jealous.”

“If you can kiss me and then tell me that it wouldn’t be worth it,” Charles pauses for dramatic effect, relishing in the way Erik leans in closer, as if he’s hanging on every word. “Then I’ll leave you alone for good.”

Erik knows they’ve gotten to a point where they either have to commit to their desires or cut each other off completely. There’s still a small, selfish part of Erik that wishes they could teeter in the middle forever. “Alright.”

For once in Charles’ life he doesn’t over think things. He just lets it happen. He inches in closer until he can feel Erik panting heavy and hot in anticipation against his lips. Their mouths brush, and they freeze, eyelids sliding shut.

Erik’s hands dart out to Charles’ hips, hauling the boy closer and melding their mouths more forcefully together. Before the farcical kiss in the car Erik hadn’t kissed another man in nearly seventeen years, and he tries not to find it painfully poetic that Charles hasn’t even been alive that long. Now- Charles’ lips eager and skin dusted in a light covering of teenage stubble- Erik struggles not to feel as if this is what he’s been waiting for all along.

Charles moans around Erik’s tongue as it slips past his teeth. He knows he has Erik before he even has to ask, and that knowledge is enough to get him drunk. His body goes boneless and pliant, melting against the older man’s muscled form.

Hands sliding down to grip Charles’ thighs, Erik picks the boy up and maneuvers him onto his lap. They both groan at the friction at their groins. Erik tears his mouth away from Charles’ to latch it onto the pale neck.

“ _Erik_ ,” Charles gasps, hands gripping the man’s shoulders. Erik trails his tongue along the underside of Charles’ jaw and bites down just below the ear. Charles has to grind his teeth to hold back a whimper. “Erik we have to be quiet.”

Erik nods, rolling them so Charles is sprawled out in the center of the bed beneath him. He presses his hand over Charles’ too red mouth and flashes him a toothy grin. “Precautionary measure.”

He hikes up Charles’ shirt and paints a messy trail of kisses down his ribs until he gets down low enough to nip playfully at the skin around his navel. Charles squeaks against Erik’s palm, back arching and muscles twitching.

Erik pops open the button of Charles’ jeans with one hand, nuzzling the soft, lightly furred skin of the boy’s stomach. Charles is at the point where just seeing Erik between his legs is almost enough to make him pop, so as the older man snakes his hand into the front of Charles’ pants he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coming.

He makes it through two firm strokes before he has to pull Erik’s hand away and whisper through labored breaths, “Stop or else I’ll… Just stop… I want…”

“What do you want?” Erik purrs roughly, voice curling up and around Charles’ spine like a live electrical wire.

Charles has to bury his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his flush. No one’s ever made him beg for it before. He never would have _let_ anyone make him beg for it. “I want you in me,” he almost sobs. “Please Erik.”

Erik doesn’t respond, just hums contentedly as he forcefully tugs Charles’ jeans down off his hips. Charles sets to work on Erik’s shirt, buttons ripping off the thread in the process. Charles is very familiar with teenage rutting, but this is more than youthful desperation. This is something animalistic and dangerous and necessary like air.

The door bursts open and Raven snaps, “Suspicious whispers are just as bad as- Ah! _Charles_!”

“Raven!” Charles rolls Erik off him on to the floor and quickly pulls his comforter up over his lower half. “What are you doing?!”

Letting out a howl of rage, Raven launches herself at Erik, who’s blinking dumbfounded on the floor. “You asshole! You said you were just going to _talk_!”

“Can you not tackle me while I have an erection?” Erik grunts as she lands a punch on his chest.

“How about you don’t get an erection from my little brother, you dumb shit!” She climbs off of him and throws his shirt at his face. “I’ve bent over backwards to score you dates, but if you’re this determined to fuck yourself up and be unhappy, fine!”

Erik goes rigid, glancing at Charles and back. “I don’t need your help to find happiness, Raven,” he starts icily. “And I certainly don’t need you to protect my virtue from a teenage boy.”

He slips into his shirt jerkily, buttoning it unevenly, before pushing past her and storming out of the room and the apartment. Raven turns to redirect her rage at Charles, but stops short at the look on his face.

“This whole time I thought you were trying to keep us apart for _my_ benefit,” Charles mumbles, picking at the threading on the comforter as a safe substitute for looking at his sister. “I wasn’t aware you thought I was so detrimental to peoples’ health.”

“Charles-“

“Bit late to take it back, I’m afraid.” He wiggles back into his jeans and stands to grab his backpack up off the floor. At Raven’s concerned look he adds, “Don’t worry, I’m not following him. I’m going home. For once I’d actually rather be there than here.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, the plot thickened. Purely unintentional, but I do hope you like it. Feedback would be great- let me know if I should continue, or quit while I'm ahead.

Charles leans his shoulder against the locker, thumbs hooked under the straps of his backpack, pleasant smile stretched across his rosy lips. “Hi Darwin.”

“No,” the other boy dismisses him, slamming the flimsy metal door shut. “I know that face. That’s the _I want something_ face. Whatever it is, no.”

“It could be a perfectly simple request!” Charles counters, half-running down the hallway to keep up with Armando and his damned long legs.

Armando stops abruptly, causing Charles to scuttle past him a few steps. “A simple request would be help on homework, which I know you don’t need. Or borrowing a few bucks, which you also don’t need. Nothing about you is simple, Xavier.”

Charles sighs, looking up at Armando with wide, manipulative blue eyes. “I need a place to stay.”

“I don’t think so,” he rejects him dryly, continuing down the now empty hallway without another glance at the smaller boy.

“What?!” Charles squawks. “I thought we were friends!”

“We are,” Armando calls over his shoulder. “Friends who eat lunch together, and occasionally hang out in groups. We also happen to be friends who have slept together, and can no longer have sleep overs because Alex will pop a vein.”

Propping his hands on his hips, Charles mutters, “Since when are you afraid of Alex?”

Armando just laughs. “Not afraid, man, just not in the mood to deal with his tantrums. If you’re so desperate to get away from home, why don’t you go bat your lashes at him?”

* * *

“I just don’t know what to do,” Raven laments, running a finger around the rim of her half-empty glass of whiskey.

“Maybe you should stop interfering,” Ororo offers. “Trust both of them to make their own mistakes, and hope that it won’t be a mistake in the end.”

From the other side of the booth Emma snorts. “Sugar, if you don’t want them to get involved with each other you’ve already screwed yourself over.”

“And why’s that?” Raven asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. She can never tell if Emma is offering advice out of genuine concern, or if she finds sick amusement out of screwing with peoples’ lives.

“From what I know about your darling little brother, it seems like he hops on for a quick ride and then puts his equipment away wet. And we all know our bastard of a co-worker has severe trust issues. So why didn’t you just let them fuck once and get it out of their systems?”

Ororo arches a brow. “Besides the fact that Erik would be taking advantage of a minor?”

“Shh,” Raven hisses. “I wanna hear this.” 

“You’ve given them time to get to know each other. To like each other. You keep this up and, God forbid, they’ll actually _fall in love_.” Emma shakes her head sadly, like she’s mourning the death of a close friend.

“Well how do I fix it!”

Emma smiles and takes a small sip of wine. “Easy. You encourage them to be together, prod at a few insecurities, and watch them self-destruct.”

* * *

Hank shuffles out of the administration office behind Moira, paper schedule clutched and crinkling in his hands. He’d been nearly invisible at his last school, and it wasn’t even _half_ as big as this one.

“Don’t worry,” Moira smiles kindly, grabbing him by the elbow to guide him down the hall. “I won’t just show you around then abandon you. I sort of make it my job to know things, so I’ll give you a rundown on all the people you should gravitate towards or try and avoid.”

He usually makes a habit of avoiding everyone. “Thanks.”

The two of them round the corner and Hank can’t help but stop dead in his tracks. There, just a few feet away, is the most beautiful boy he has ever laid eyes on. It feels as though his heart stops beating, shudders, and falls down to his toes. What he wouldn’t give for-

“No, no, no,” Moira laughs sympathetically, following where Hank’s eyes are glued to. “You don’t want any part of that. Trust me.”

“It’s not- I mean- He…” Hank wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and shyly pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Who is that?”

Moira frowns, a strong sense of foreboding brewing in her gut. “Charles Xavier. You’re not the first to swoon over him, and you certainly won’t be the last. Stay away from him, Hank, if you know what’s good for you. The boy is evil.”

* * *

Erik toes his shoes off and props his feet up on the coffee table with a groan. He’s been running back and forth across town all day to get interviews in, but apparently being suspended from one of the most prestigious companies in America isn’t a great qualification. He just wants to eat, get drunk, and maybe fall asleep to Notting Hill.

“No luck?”

Startled, Erik twists around on the couch. “Mama,” he sighs. “Don’t sneak.”

“I wasn’t sneaking, Schatz, you just weren’t paying attention.” Edie takes the empty cushion next to her son and places a hand on his knee. “Did the interviews not go well?”

“That would be an understatement,” Erik says softly, breaking their gaze.

“Well they’re idiots then, aren’t they?” Edie responds a bit too cheerfully. “I never saw the point of you looking, anyway. Tony will bring you back in soon. Just you wait and see.”

Erik gives her a thin smile. “Yeah, of course.” Just hopefully before he runs out of money to pay his mortgage. 

“Cheer up, Erik. What you need is a good shtupping.”

“I’ll just go start on dinner then,” Erik grimaces, leaving his beaming mother behind on the couch.

* * *

Charles had tried. Really. He just couldn’t spend one more night in that god awful house with those god awful people he called a family. They were so cold it made sleeping on the streets in winter look appealing.

So he steeled himself. He carefully tucked his pride away. He wore that blue button down that Alex always had a fondness for. And he took Armando’s advice.

Alex laughed in his face.

“What happened to your older lover who gives you everything you need?”

Charles pushes out his bottom lip and tries to look as pathetic as possible. “Can you not be mean to me right now, Alex? It’d be much appreciated. I’m asking you for help. I thought you cared about me.”

“There’s a difference between caring about someone and being a pushover, ya know.” Alex looks him over briefly, as if considering if he’s worth looking like a fool over. “We all have family problems. It sucks, but you’ll deal.”

Charles splutters, affronted. “You- you can’t just say _no_.”

“I just did.” Alex looks around in a mockingly comic way. “And it doesn’t seem like the universe is ripping at the seams. Hmm, maybe you’ll learn what it’s like to be a human after all.”

The blond turns on his heel and stalks off to eighth period. Charles’ cheeks flush red from a dizzying mixture of embarrassment and anger. He moves to storm off and, staying consistent with his current luck, runs head on into his stepbrother.

“Cain,” Charles breathes tiredly. Freshman year with the boy had been a living nightmare, and he’d thought that sophomore year would be a blessed reprieve. Unfortunately, Cain was just the right amount of lazy, disruptive, and stupid to have to repeat his senior year.

The older boy regarded Charles with a sneer. “Boyfriend trouble?”

“Can you get out of my way? I’m really in no mood to deal with you being an insufferable twat.”

* * *

Three AM and an urgent knock on the door rouses Erik from his sleep on the sofa. He stumbles to his feet, trying to work out a crick in his neck from the uncomfortable position. He expects it’s Raven, there to angrily rant about one of the men who rapidly entered and exited her life. Or perhaps Tony, to drunkenly expect Erik to help piece his life together.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised when he opens the door to find Charles on his step.

“What are you doing here?” Erik asks in a sleep-rough voice. “I thought I told you my mother-“ He stops short as Charles moves forward into the light. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Charles laughs around a wince as Erik’s fingers brush over his bruised cheek bone. “Not as untouchable as I thought, hmm?”

“This isn’t a laughing matter,” Erik barks, dragging the boy into his house and tugging him down next to him on the couch. “Who did this to you?”

“Is this all it takes to get your attention? I should have thought to get punched sooner.” Erik immediately stops his caressing of the boy’s face to send him a stern look. “It was my brother.”

“Raven never mentioned another brother.”

Charles shrugs. “Step-brother. And not a particularly pleasant one.”

“I can see that,” Erik unhappily remarks.

“Yes, well. Raven doesn’t talk about him because she’d rather not acknowledge him. If she knew he pushed me around, I assume she’d likely try and kill him.”

Erik runs a hand through Charles’ soft hair; his eyes surprisingly warm given the situation. “And what makes you think I won’t?”

“You’ve already gotten trouble for assaulting one man, I don’t think you need to add another mark to your record.” Charles edges forward and rests his head against Erik’s shoulder. The older man tenses and Charles shrinks back a fraction. “I’m not trying anything I just- Is this okay? I just want… I’d just like to be around you.”

The admission makes something inside Erik melt, but he’ll be damned if Charles knows that. “It’s fine,” he grumbles, maneuvering so they’re both laying on the couch, Charles splayed across his body.

Charles nuzzles against the strong chest, suddenly exhausted. His fingers curl up in the material of Erik’s half-unbuttoned shirt, and he releases a sigh of contentment as a pair of muscled arms move up to wrap around him.

It’s not long until the both of them are snoring softly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short update, but I'm using it as more of a transition chapter. Hopefully more will be up soon, where more actually happens! Also, my internet is really crap here, so uploading is a real drag- comments would be a fantastic motivator ;]

Erik awakes to a cramp low in his back, rolling over with a groan. This is why he never sleeps on the couch… Why did he fall asleep on the couch?

Laughter drifts in from the kitchen and Erik jerks upright, looking over the back of the couch to the source. Charles sits on the counter talking animatedly to Erik’s mother, who has half her attention on the pancakes on the stove. The bruise on Charles’ face looks worse today, but it does nothing to make him any less beautiful.

In an objective sort of way, of course. Like a piece of art. Nothing lascivious.

Erik pads carefully into the kitchen, trying to get a feel of the situation before he missteps. “You never make _me_ breakfast,” he rumbles sleepily, leaning against the counter on the other side of Charles.

“You’re never as polite as Charles,” Edie replies without missing a beat.

Not that Erik would know anything about his politeness. He only gets the hormonal terror. Well, there was _one_ please… “I let you live with me!”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Edie says with a shake of her head, sliding the boy’s breakfast onto a plate. “It’s not polite to keep score Erik. I gave birth to you.”

Charles fails at stifling another laugh, slipping off the counter to take his plate to the table. Erik glares at him as he passes. He was always so worried what his mother’s reaction would be if she found out about their little flirtation, he never bothered to worry about what would happen if she _liked_ Charles. “But you just kept score yourself, Mama.”

“Don’t talk back.” It’s said with a fond smile as she places another full plate on the table. “Sit. Eat. You’re too skinny.”

“I think he’s perfect,” Charles grins over his glass of milk.

Edie pats the top of his floppy brown hair affectionately. “Of course he is, honey. How would you like to stay?”

“Mama!” Erik drops his fork with a clatter. “You can’t just steal peoples’ children."

“I meant through dinner,” she rolls her eyes, turning to Charles. “He overreacts. Drives me nuts. He’s always so on edge.”

Charles nods, swallowing a mouthful. “I’ve noticed that too.”

“I think it’s because he’s lonely,” Edie sighs. “He just needs to bring a nice boy home and-

“I’m sitting right here,” Erik grumbles. “I’m fine.”

Edie restocks both of their plates liberally. “Well I’m your mother and I say you’re not fine. What I say goes. Get out of the house and get yourself a man. Like Charles.”

“He’s _sixteen_!”

“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she laughs ruffling his already messy hair. “You’re the one getting cozy on the couch with him. And it’s not like I don’t know the sort of things _you_ got up to at that age.”

Charles folds his hands neatly on top of the table. “Do tell.”

“Let’s not,” Erik hurriedly cuts his mother off. “If you’re staying you should call and tell Raven. She’ll worry if you don’t show up at her place.”

“I didn’t intend to show up anyway,” Charles mutters, carrying his dishes to the sink.

Erik follows, ignoring his mother’s curious look. “Call her,” he insists quietly. “If we’re going to do this thing I want it to be because you want it too, not because you want to get back at your sister.”

“That’s not why-“

“Just do it,” Erik stops him, running a hand down his arm and causing a flush to rise on pale cheeks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this out sooner, but I really wanted to make this quality, so I kind of dwelled on it. Thank you so, so much to everyone who left comments! You're beautiful people, really. Hopefully you like this chapter- it's for you! Feedback would be much appreciated, as always.

If there’s one flaw that Raven can own up to, it’s her blinding dislike for listening to anyone. But, she supposes, she can do it just this once. And only because it’s for the benefit of two people she loves more than anything. Besides, she likes Emma- likes her casual cruelty for her own amusement, her unconventional methods, her similar disdain for authority. She’s a hell of a woman to take advice from.

So she can do this. She’ll let this disturbing romance run its course like the virus that it is. She’ll support this relationship so much that the two of them will hate each other before the night is through. Worst case scenario: they go for a few rounds of intimate fumbling. Honestly though, there are worse people Charles has brought home. Probably diseased people and- Oh God, what if he gives Erik an STD?

Raven forcefully squashes her downward spiraling train of thought and reaches for the doorbell instead.

Inside, Erik pauses in helping his mother set the table. He shoots Charles a look as if to say _what did you do now?_ The boy responds with an innocent shrug, and even though Erik knows better than to take Charles’ reactions at face value, he gives him the benefit of the doubt this time. Excusing himself, he makes his way toward the front door.

Raven smiles pleasantly as the door swings open, moving in for a hug before Erik can question anything. “Sorry to drop in uninvited, but your mom’s been asking me to come over for dinner ever since she got back, and since my brother’s here, I figure why not? One big happy family, and all.”

Erik frowns as she slips past him. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic!” She grins, waving him off.

He grabs her by the wrist, pulling her back close enough to whisper. “Don’t upset him."

She rolls her eyes, trying and failing to tug away. “Oh, please. I know how to handle my brother.”

“He doesn’t need to be handled right now,” Erik insists. “He’s been having a hard time, but he feels happy here. If you do anything to compromise that I’ll ask you to leave.”

“Shit,” she laughs uncomfortably. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“In an exasperating and verging on inappropriate way,” he admits with a sigh. “I guess I do.”

Raven forces a crooked smile on her face, feeling dread settle in her gut like a ton of bricks. “Well then, best behavior. I promise.”

Edie greets Raven with a hug, and genially sets out another place at the table. “Good thing I always cook extra.”

“Yes Mama,” Erik teases as he tries to take a seat between the two women. “You have enough to feed a small village.”

“You go sit over there by Charles,” his mother scolds. “And my portions wouldn’t be a problem if my grandchildren ever came to visit.”

Erik tenses as he takes his place in his new chair. “They’re busy. They have school.”

Edie tuts as she folds a napkin over her lap. “Charles has school, and yet I’m sure he finds plenty of time to spend with you.”

“Charles doesn’t live on the other side of the country,” he grits out. Picking up his fork, he stabs overzealously at the steaming meal, and fills his mouth despite the scalding temperature.

Charles slides a hand under the table to grasp Erik’s, and with his other raises a napkin to Erik’s mouth to make him spit out the food. “If you don’t mind me saying, I think it’s time for a quick change in subject before Erik burns his tongue off in avoidance.”

“Do you have any wine?” Raven asks, hiding her desperation behind politeness. Those two are acting like newlyweds and it’s starting to make her sick.

“Yes honey, it’s-“

“I know where it is.” She pushes her chair back too loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Thanks.”

Leaning his head on Erik’s shoulder, Charles mutters, “Well this dinner could’ve started off better.”

Erik barely manages to stifle a laugh as Raven starts on the first of many drinks.

* * *

Raven stumbles towards the front door, Erik chasing exasperatedly after her to grab her by the shoulders and steer her back towards the couch. “I really don’t think you should be driving right now.”

“I’m fine,” she slurs unconvincingly, flailing as Erik pushes her none to gently into a sitting position. “I’ve driven much farther while I was much worse off.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.” He lifts her legs up one at a time, slipping her flats off her feet to make her more comfortable. “So just do me a favor and sleep it off, yeah?”

Snorting she wiggles around until she’s laying flat. “You just want me to stay so Charles will stay. You think you can fix him with your… Your steely determination and secret mushy heart and um… stupid handsome face.”

“I want you to stay so I don’t have to scrape you off your windshield in the morning,” Erik says low on patience, already turning to leave the room. “And Charles doesn’t need to be fixed by anyone, least of all me.”

“Oh bullshit,” Raven counters morosely. “We all need to be fixed. The human race as a unit is pretty fucked up.”

“I’m not going to philosophize with you while you’re drunk. Especially while I’m not.”

Raven sits up quickly- too quickly, if her lurching stomach as anything to say about it- suddenly energetic. “Then grab another bottle and get drunk with me, Lehnsherr! It’s been a while.”

“I think not,” Erik throws over his shoulder, not pausing in his retreat.

“But _why_? Oh.. Oh wait, no I remember.” At Raven’s cackle Erik does stop. “You’re off to fuck my brother. Don’t give me that face, we both know it’s true. Your mother even knows it’s true, and God only knows why she’s supportive of this. But that’s fine. It is. I don’t care anymore. Honest. You were right. You’re a big boy. And Charles is too, I guess, since I don’t think he ever had it in him to be a _little_ boy. So do whatever. Let your passion ignite.”

Erik frowns, trying not to think too hard on her sudden change of heart. “Thanks, I think. Now go to sleep, please.”

Once in his room, his life doesn’t get any less exasperating. “I sincerely hope you’re wearing boxers under that sheet.”

Charles grins, stretching languidly to show off skin so pale it’s practically glowing. Erik’s mouth waters at the urge to bite. “Why? Did you want to undress me yourself?”

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, playing coy. He hooks his thumb under the top edge of the sheet and slides it down at an agonizing pace, treating Erik to a slow unveiling of the thin trail of light brown hair leading downward. He spreads his legs, arches his back, and squirms impatiently, whispering hotly, “ _Erik_.”

And then Erik snaps. He’s not sure he can pinpoint exactly what did him in- maybe it was the sinful combination- but he’s launched himself so eagerly onto the bed that Charles actually gives a startled squeak.

Erik runs his large rough hands over what seems like miles of milky skin, wasting no time in sinking his teeth into the juncture of Charles shoulder and neck. Charles shudders bucking up against him and groaning at the drag of Erik’s jeans against his bare skin. His fingers immediately dart to the button and zipper of the older man’s pants, while Erik is busy ghosting his touches over the twitching muscles of Charles’ thighs.

Charles tugs down on the jeans as Erik moves his hands up and around to squeeze the- in his opinion, perfect- globes of Charles’ ass. For all the waves of heat pulsing through his body, Charles has to push Erik away from his slow process of marking every inch of his skin to say, “You have the most beautiful penis I’ve ever seen. If I’d known you were packing that I’d have built an altar in worship.”

“I’ll have you on your knees later,” Erik laughs, flipping Charles onto his stomach to lick a stripe down his flawless back. “I have plans for tonight.”

“Plans?” Charles breathes, fingers gripping sheets when Erik nips at the fleshy curve of Charles’ ass and licks away the sting. “Tell me about them. Extensively.”

Erik reaches for the bedside table, fingers hooking around the handle of the drawer without once tearing his eyes away from Charles’ body. He felt like if he looked away for one second he’d find himself alone, Charles gone, like a beautiful figment of his imagination, a dream that hadn’t fully come to fruition. For so long Erik had been living in a shadow of what he’s wanted, denying himself, being something he’s not. And now everything he aches for is right as his fingertips and he’ll be damned if he loses it now.

“Children these days can’t wait for anything,” Erik jokes, tossing the nearly full bottle of lubricant onto the bed beside Charles’ hip. He gives a light slap to a pale cheek, demanding, “Up,” and slips a pillow under the boy’s hips.

“You’re a lot more-“ Charles pauses to hold back a groan as he hears the opening pop of a plastic cap- “Eager? Lighthearted? Since we last-“ This time the groan tears its way through his throat as Erik teasingly circles a slick finger around his entrance- “Tried this.”

Erik goes ahead and eases a finger all the way in to the last knuckle, impatient and confident that Charles can take a quicker pace. “Well, Raven all but gave her shiny seal of approval.”

Charles tenses, sending Erik an incredulous look over his shoulder. “Raven doesn’t own access rights to my body, Erik!”

Sliding his finger out, Erik slides back in with two, roughly. “Do you really want to be arguing when I could be fucking you through the mattress?”

“Right,” Charles moans, feeling the fingers scissor inside him. “Fight later.”

“Good boy,” Erik smirks against the sweaty skin of Charles’ back, rewarding him with another finger. Charles can only keen and think that he really shouldn’t like to be called that, but good lord he does. And then Erik’s fingers are pressing into that spot inside him and his vision whites out and his breath catches in his throat and he can’t really think anything anymore besides _yes_ and a little bit of _more_.

The short, high sounds coming from Charles are driving Erik crazy. He knows he should move things along, knows Charles is ready, but he’s memorized. He want to freeze this moment, bottle it up, and keep it forever. Erik can’t remember the last time he was this happy.

“Erik,” Charles groans. “You’re doing wonderful things with your hands, really, but if you keep that up this is going to be over very soon. I know I’m not privy to your plans, but I did assume there would be a big finish.”

Annoyed at the boy’s apparent return of eloquence, Erik vows that he’s going to do everything in his power to ensure that the only word Charles will remember is Erik’s name. Erik pulls his fingers out with a wet sound, making heat rush to Charles’ face. Reaching down over the side of the bed, Erik scoops up Charles’ jeans, plucking a condom out of the back pocket.

Eyes wide, Charles looks over his shoulder again. “How did you know I had that there?”

“I know you,” the older man responds, giving him a flat look. “I’ve also been staring at your ass the entire day.”

Charles laughs, burying his face in the pillow, and misses the crinkle of the wrapper. He stops short when he feels Erik press against his hole, body going tense in anticipation. Erik runs a hand down his side, and Charles holds his breath as he feels him pushing in slowly, inch by inch.

“All right?” Erik asks, nipping the lobe of Charles’ ear.

“Yes,” Charles breathes like a prayer. “God yes.” His body’s on fire, strung tight, waiting to be completely unraveled by Erik and everything he has to offer. Charles has been in plenty of beds with plenty of men and women, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this heavy weight in his chest before.

Erik stretches out over him, the button of his shirt dragging red lines over Charles’ freckled back. He rolls his hips, pressing flush against him, and mouths at the boy’s neck sloppily. Charles clenches around him, and Erik growls against his skin.

“Impatient?”

“Very,” Charles admits shamelessly, arching his back to take more of Erik. “C’mon. I want-“

Erik snaps his hips, making Charles choke on his words. He hooks one arm under the boy’s chest, and presses the flat of his hand against his stomach, pulling him back against his body in time with every thrust. Charles scrabbles against the mattress looking for some kind of leverage, but Erik is relentless. Not that Charles is really complaining.

The pressure builds fast in Charles’ gut, and he wants to ask Erik, to beg him, to just touch him and finish him off _please_ , but he can’t speak. Can’t form words, can only moan out in a series of delirious vowels. He struggles to snake his hand downward, ready to take himself in hand, but Erik stops him before he reaches his desperate destination.

Batting the pale hand away, Erik takes its place and whispers filthy and wet and hot against his ear, “I’ll take care of you.”

Charles comes uttering a stream of nonsense, completely at Erik’s mercy. Erik keeps rutting through the aftershocks of the boy’s orgasm, grunting with exertion, sweat easing the slide of skin on skin. He’s almost there, teetering right on the edge, when he makes a hasty lust-crazed decision.

Erik pulls out- too quickly to be entirely considerate, but he’s in a hurry. He manhandles Charles over onto his back, distracting the younger boy with the beautiful imagery of clenching well-muscled biceps. And in that distraction, Charles doesn’t notice that Erik’s snapped the condom off and thrown it aside until his chest is being striped with the man’s come.

The two of them stare at each other, chests heaving as the only sound filling the room is their synchronized panting. Charles’ mouth is hanging open, half from surprise and half from reignited arousal. Erik can’t help it when he reaches out to brush a sweaty lock of hair from the boy’s eyes, lingering to run a hand down his cheek.

Charles laughs, a little stilted. “What was that?”

Erik moves to lie next to Charles, propped up on his side, and averts his gaze uncomfortably. “The coming on your chest, or the caressing your face?”

“Either,” Charles smiles softly, oddly charmed at the older man’s sudden shyness. “Both.”

“I got it in my head that I wanted to see your face,” he admits, feeling a little silly. “And that I wanted to make you mine as much as I could. I’m sor-“

Charles stops him with a finger over his lips. “Remember when we were in Raven’s apartment and you told me I was gorgeous?” At Erik’s nod he continues, “Say it again.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Erik replies without hesitation. Charles' cheeks are blotchy and pink, making the few, light freckles on his face more prominent. His lips are swollen and bruised and deliciously chapped. His eyes are wide and gut-punching blue. He's so incredibly debauched and unfairly graceful and composed and amazing that Erik has never meant anything more. “You’re the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever seen.”

Charles didn’t think he could get any happier than having Erik inside of him, but having Erik next to him, sweet and shy and _his_ is almost unreal. He slides a hand around to the back of Erik’s head and pulls the other man down for a slow, deep kiss. “I want you to do one more thing for me, okay?”

Erik wants to say _anything_ , but he’s a grown man, not a teenager that throws around empty words. “Hmm?”

“I want you to promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.” The happiness is still there somewhere, but muted, shrouded in seriousness.

A furrow wrinkles between Erik’s brows and something ugly whispers self-destructive thoughts in the back of his mind. “I’ll do my best.”

“I mean it,” Charles sighs, letting Erik go to stare with forced concentration at the bland ceiling. “I know I’ve paraded around telling you that I know Raven thinks I’m bad for you, but there was some small part of me still hoping maybe she was trying to keep us apart for me. Hearing her say… Well you know what she said… And perhaps she was right. I mean, if my own sister thinks so, you know?”

Erik doesn’t respond, but slips an arm around the boy’s waist, waiting for him to continue when he obviously has more to say. “You make me happy, Erik,” he whispers, as if anyone else hearing the words would mean the end of the world. “Incredibly and impossibly happy. I don’t think I even knew what happy was until I met you. But I am… Bad. And everyone knows I’m selfish, so I’m not going to let you go. I want this. This right here. Just this. Does that make sense?”

“Not entirely,” Erik tries not to laugh at the flustered beauty trying to make sense of his thoughts.

“I like you. And I want you. Like this. Just this. I like all of you. I like you when you’re cold as much as when you’re hot, when you’re steely and sarcastic as much as when you’re soft and sweet. I like feeling at home with you. I also happen to like having sex with you.” He rolls over onto his side, facing Erik with a graveness that looks foreign on a boy his age. “But that’s all it is. This can’t be anything serious.”

Erik pushes the icy rejection down and takes a slow breath before replying, “So you just want…” He can’t find a way to phrase it that doesn’t sound scorned or childish. “You want a purely physical relationship?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Charles says quickly, hands coming up to the stubble-rough sides of Erik’s face. “I obviously have feelings for you- I just said as much. But this can’t be a normal relationship. It’s not going anywhere, it’s just… Stagnant.”

Erik is thirty-six years old. He’s recently gotten out of a fifteen year marriage that was slowly killing him inside and he didn’t even know it. He has two children- twins- that he loves more than anything, but he never gets to see. He’s been suspended from a job he’s not only dreamed of, but has worked his ass off for. He doesn’t really have the time, or desire, or, quite frankly, the spirit, to give up another piece of himself that will never develop and grow and become _something_. Because God knows that after the shitstorm that has been Erik Lehnsherr’s life, it’s about time he’s had something… Palpable.

But in all those years he had been with Magda he had never felt one moment of that peace that Charles gives him. The quieting of his mind where all the bad spiraling thoughts just stop and he can just _be_. He had been with dozens of men before her, too, and he’d never felt much of anything besides carnal urges. So what if he never finds that again? What if Charles is it for him and Charles doesn’t even want something that’s real?

It’s a choice he has to make. A choice that feels like shards of broken glass slipping through the cracks in his ribs. Does he commit himself to something static and shallow, or walk away from something that could be his closest chance at happiness?

“Alright,” Erik breathes. Because he can do this. How hard can it be to not fall in love with a pretentious, moody, self-entitled teenager? “I agree. That’s what I-“ he almost chokes on the word- “want.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I suck at updating regularly. I'm sorry. Hopefully you like this. A huge thank you to the comments on the last one- without them this probably would have taken even longer. Keep the feedback coming!

For a few beautiful, blissful days everything is perfect.

Erik wakes up that next morning with Charles curled around him, silent and sleeping, warm and soft. He had looked magnificent spread out for him in bed like a feast, but now with the sunlight lapping across his bared skin he looks like something breathtaking and ethereal.

Erik doesn’t compare this to the mornings he had spent with Magda, because they are worlds apart. His heart doesn’t slowly crack in two at the thought that he won’t get to see this every day for the rest of his life, because he is content with the now, soaking up every moment that he gets to spend with this impossibly perfect human being.

He can feel the smile form against his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Charles laughs, flopping onto his back. “You’re spoiling me with all this attention. I feel like a kitten.”

Erik doesn’t let him escape for long, rolling until he’s positioned over the boy. He drags his nose along the porcelain line of Charles’ neck, taking in the fading scent of cologne and the dominating musk of sex. “You were spoiled before I got to you.”

Charles pouts until the older man has no choice but to kiss him, tugging lightly on his full lower lip and drawing out a low moan. The boy caresses down Erik’s sides, stopping at his hips and digging short fingers into his skin. Erik rolls his hips and Charles spreads his legs in filthy invitation, but before they can get anywhere they’re interrupted.

“I made breakfast!” Edie calls from the kitchen.

Erik curses under his breath. “My mother hasn’t made breakfast this many days in a row since I was in grade school.”

“My mother hasn’t made breakfast ever,” Charles says slipping out from under Erik. Clearly he ranks food above sex. Erik tries not to hate things like biological functions or his mother.

Charles makes his way to Erik’s closet, pausing with his hand on a hanger. “Would you mind if I snagged this?” He asks, eyes glittering with a hint of dangerous mischief. “I’ve always wanted to stroll around in a lover’s shirt.”

Erik just nods, not wanting to confess that he’d allow Charles anything. The shirt he picked is a deep purple. It brings out the bruises spotting the column of his neck. It falls over the luscious swell of his glorious ass, but leaves his strong thighs exposed. It doesn’t motivate Erik to leave his bed.

“How does it look?” Charles asks, grinning like the devil himself, well aware of the answer.

“Perfection.” Erik purrs, and he’s afraid that he might mean a set of three very different syllables that break a recently made promise.

* * *

Charles leaves directly after breakfast, and Erik isn’t ashamed to admit he’s grateful. He’d been on edge since he woke up, afraid to give too much away. Being alone is like a breath of fresh air. Except for the fact that his mother’s too warm eyes track him through the house. 

* * *

They don’t see each other for three days, which is fine. There’s a near constant stream of texts bouncing back and forth, and only about eighty percent of them are increasingly graphic. Plus there are the pictures, which neither Charles nor Erik will admit to saving.

On the fourth day, Charles happens to drop in while Edie is out having lunch with a friend. He pushes Erik down onto the couch and crouches between his knees. Erik could swear on the bible that that’s the best blowjob he’s ever received. 

* * *

It’s a Wednesday when Erik’s phone rings. Charles hasn’t talked to him yet today, so Erik doesn’t bother to assume it’s anyone else. He answers with a filthy grin in place. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I ever,” the voice replies sickly sweet, and it’s not exactly who Erik was expecting.

He almost drops the phone. “ _Tony_?”

“What’s up, Buttercup?” There’s a definite smugness in his tone, pleased at catching Erik off guard.

Erik, for his part, is still muddled by his surprise. “What…”

“Sounds like being out of work has started to wear away at you higher brain functions. I guess I’ll just have to fix that, won’t I?”

“Fix?” Erik wants to kick himself. He’s been waiting for a chance to get his job back for months, and now he can barely string a sentence together.

Tony chuckles on the other end of the line, and now Erik wants to kick _him_. “I want you back, Lehnsherr. Suspension over, if you’ll accept. With a raise.” There’s a pause, not quite hesitant, but bracing. “And I’d like to apologize.”

If Erik thought his brain had short-circuited before, he doesn’t really know what’s happened now. What this a prank? Was Tony drunk? “Apologize?”

“Your reinstatement is conditional, in that you have to be capable of saying more than one word at a time,” Tony sighs. “And yes, apologize. I’m…” Erik can practically hear his eye twitch. “ _Sorry_. I undervalued you in exchange for a contract. It was… Wrong.”

“Is someone standing there with a gun to your head?” Erik asks dryly.

“There’s the Erik I remember,” and to Tony’s credit, it doesn’t sound like he regrets the return of Erik’s wit and cynicism. “No gun. Just a good dress down from a mutual friend of ours. Charles always looked so pleasant at functions, I never knew he could be so terrifying when he put his mind to it.”

Something icy and mean reaches up from Erik’s stomach and wraps its fingers around his heart. He wonders how literal that dress down was. “Charles talked to you.”

“I’ll say,” Tony laughed. “That kid’s something. Very convincing.”

Erik thinks he might throw up any minute now. “Yeah… I know just how he is.”

“So,” Tony prompts, all cheer. “Do you accept?”

“The apology?” His voice is ragged from the sting of bile in his throat, and he’d be lying if a hatred wasn’t being kindled in his gut.

With an impatient groan Tony conveys the fact that he’s rolling his eyes loud and clear. “The job! The raise!”

Erik wants to say no. He wants to go back and punch Tony this time. But he needs this. He’s running out of money and he’s got bills to pay. Children to pamper. A mother who looks at him with big sad eyes when she thinks he won’t notice. Besides, he wouldn’t want to let Charles’ whoring go to waste, would he?

“Yes,” Erik growls through clenched teeth. “I accept.”

* * *

Erik has been stewing all week. Charles had called him a few times, but Erik let it go to voice mail. When they texted his replies were always terse and perfunctory. So when Charles comes over late that Saturday, Erik wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. He wants to throw him up against the wall. From there he doesn’t know if he wants to hit him or kiss him.

Instead he just stares. Blankly. When all else fails, Erik knows how to pull away from his emotions.

Charles pauses on his way toward Erik’s mouth, tilting his head to the side. “What’s the matter?”

“I start work again Monday,” Erik says, each word threaded with steel.

The younger boy’s entire face lights up, unaware that he’s about to step into a minefield. “Really? That’s wonderful, Erik!” He wraps his body around Erik, peppering his face and neck with kisses. “We should celebrate.”

“We?” He starts, pushing him away. “Or you? If I understand correctly you’re the one that got my position back. And with a raise. How generous.”

Charles’ pink little mouth forms a surprised ‘o.’ He runs his palms over Erik’s chest, placating already. Erik can see the gears turning in the boy’s brain, calculating, trying to wriggle out of the situation. “I might have run into Mr. Stark in a restaurant bathroom. We do run in the same circles, you know.”

A public restroom. Erik would have thought Charles would be classier than that. But apparently not. Anything to get a thrill. “He said you were _very_ convincing. I’m sure you were. Did you fake it, or did he really push all your buttons?”

“Fake…?” Charles’ brow furrows, and Erik wants to hate himself for the urge to kiss the wrinkle away. “What are you talking about? We had a conversation. A rather one-sided conversation. I yelled, mostly.”

“I’m sure you were very vocal.” A chilled venom slips past Erik’s stoicism, and he can’t bring himself to care anymore.

The confusion slips off of Charles’ features, replaced by a dark look. “You think I slept with him.”

Erik huffs a mirthless laugh, shoving past him to retreat to the kitchen and pour himself a drink. “Didn’t you?” His hands are shaking around the bottle. The liquor swishes over the side of the glass messily, and Erik slams the bottle down on the counter pointedly.

“I don’t recall saying we were monogamous,” Charles replies in his brattiest tone. “We’re nothing serious, if you remember.”

It feels like a kick to the ribs. “I know that,” Erik snaps. “That’s not why I’m mad.”

“You mean you’re not jealous?” Charles hops up on the kitchen island, batting his lashes saccharinely, and steals the glass from Erik’s hands. He swallows it all in one go.

“Of course not,” the older man seethes. “I couldn’t care less who you screw around with. It’s a matter of dignity. I don’t need anyone to prostitute themselves for my benefit. I’d rather get by on my merit, not your skills in the bedroom. Or the bathroom, rather.”

Charles grabs Erik by the collar of his shirt, reeling him in close so that he has to stand between Charles’ knees. Their noses brush and the air between them crackles with tension. “If you ever,” Charles starts, voice low and dangerous. “Call me a prostitute again,” he draws him in even tighter, until his hips are flush against Charles and they both shudder at the contact. “I will ruin you.”

_You already have_ , Erik thinks.

Hands framing Erik’s face, Charles crashes their mouths together, teeth clacking and biting and bruising. Erik’s hands slide under Charles’ thighs, dragging him to the edge of the counter, grinding against him. Someone moans obscenely through the kiss, but neither can be sure who. Maybe both.

Charles pulls Erik away from his mouth by the hair, his grip almost punishing. “We only talked,” he growls. “Why the hell would I sleep with him?”

“An attractive man with money and power?” Erik retorts bitingly. “Who wouldn’t want that?”

Charles licks his way back into Erik’s mouth, sneaking his hands up the back of his shirt to leave angry red lines down his back. Erik shoves his hands down the back of Charles’ jeans, getting firm handfuls of his ass. The younger man hooks his legs around Erik’s waist, and Erik pushes forward, splaying Charles flat across the counter. They're rutting full-bodied, angry and rough.

They wrench away their lips for air, and Charles presses against Erik’s sides with his knees. “I don’t need his money. You fucking idiot.”

“Fine,” Erik acquiesces. “But I don’t need you handing me things just because you have the influence to get them, either.”

The ire leaves Charles like the flip of a switch. His blue eyes go soft as he tucks a piece of hair out of Erik’s eyes. “I didn’t hand you anything. You earned that job. I spoke to him because I care about you, not because I didn’t think you could do it on your own.”

Erik melts on top of him, but his lips form a pout he’d never admit to. “He said you gave him a _dress down_.”

“For God’s sake, it’s an idiom,” Charles says with equal parts exasperation and affection. “You turn into a complete oaf when you’re jealous.”

Resting his forehead against Charles’ shoulder, Erik places an apologetic kiss to his pale collarbone. “I said I wasn’t jealous.”

“You were a little bit,” Charles wheedles.

Erik can only sigh. “Yeah.”

"Do you want to start arguing again so we can go have angry, dirty sex?"

"God yes."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to all of the amazing people that gave me some form of feedback. You're fabulous. Second of all, I have a full time job at the moment and it's sucking out my soul, so that's why I'm lagging more than I would like to with the updates. And thirdly, what I'm posting is only half of the chapter I intend to post- I'll post the other half by mid-afternoon tomorrow, at the latest. It was just taking to long to type out, and I didn't want people to lose faith. So hit me with the feedback, and I promise I'll include some sexy times in the next update ;]

Emma glides forward in long strides until she’s close enough to perch on the edge of Erik’s desk. She thrusts her breasts forward, as if Erik’s ever stolen a glance in his entire life. Her eyes narrow at his pointed disinterest, and Erik smirks smugly at the fact that there’s at least one man Emma Frost can’t lead around by the balls.

“Lehnsherr,” she greets, voice smooth and only a fraction warmer than her usual chill of disdain. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors.”

“I’m sure you have,” Erik grunts. “When you’re not busy turning your nose up at everyone you’re sticking it in other peoples’ business.”

She laughs a perfect laugh, displaying a row of pearly teeth. “This is why you’re one of my favorites. You’re not full of shit.”

“It’s an honor,” he replies dryly. “Now say what you want to say so I can get back to work.”

Emma grins, tapping her sharp nails on the polished wood of Erik’s desk. “A little bird told me you were dating a teenager.”

Erik can’t exactly come out and say _No not dating, just fucking, actually_. “Would this bird be a Raven?”

“Who else?” She throws him a wink. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you aren’t denying it.”

“I won’t bother denying it- it’s true. It’s not like I’m corrupting the boy. Charles is hardly a normal teenager.” Erik narrows his eyes, scrutinizing Emma’s motives. “I hardly think you’re in a position to give me a lecture about morality.”

The woman hums in amusement, waving away his concerns with a hand. “The thought never crossed my mind. I only worry for you, Sugar.”

Erik really didn’t want to ask, but damn his curiosity. “And why would you worry?”

“Oh, you know what it’s like to be a teenager,” she sighs wistfully. “Being horny all the time, wanting to experience everything all at once and now, now, _now_. I hope you’ve got the stamina for him. And the flexibility.”

“I’ve never heard any complaints,” Erik assures her, a hint of steel poorly concealed.

She pats him on the shoulder, slipping down off of his desk. “Of course not. Then again, it’s been fifteen years since you were on top of the- Well, I would say dating scene, but let’s not mince words here. I just don’t want you to be the Internet Explorer of sex while little Charlie is running Google Chrome.”

* * *

The smell of pizza lures Charles out of his room at Raven’s apartment around 6:30. He leaves his cellphone at the end of the bed, but not before checking one last time if Erik has texted him. He hasn’t.

He shuffles towards the small kitchen, mouth half-open and ready to ask his sister if she’s heard anything about the man, when he sees the woman perched primly in one of the wobbly wooden chairs.

Charles had grown up under Emma Frost’s cold stare. The Ice Queen had been one of Raven’s heroes when they were growing up. Too old to actually take Raven on as a friend, Emma was all too pleased to mentor Raven in the ways of proper hair care and demolishing the male ego. His mother was only all too pleased that a beautiful young heiress was taking an interest in her charity case of an adoptive daughter, who had grown too old to be a cute accessory at her side.

He had very few fond memories of that woman, himself, if any. One of her favorite pastimes was cutting him down to size and talking to him as though he were still the five year old boy she had to look after for a week when the Xavier nanny had gotten sick.

Thus came the understanding that Raven wouldn’t subject Charles to her old acquaintance-cum-co-worker. But apparently that deal was off.

“Charlie,” she coos, just because she knows it gets under his skin.

“Miss Frost,” Charles returns stiffly. “It’s been quite a while. Time has treated you well- only slight wrinkling around the eyes. I find it entirely surprising that you’ve remained unmarried so late in your life.”

Emma doesn’t deign to scowl, but can’t quite stop the glare. “Cute. Though I hear you’re rather taken with someone who’s even older than I am.”

Alarm bells start going off in Charles’ brain. “Where’s Raven?”

“Work call. Emergency apparently.”

Charles can’t help it, he knows he’s giving her ammunition, but he has to ask. “Is something wrong with Erik?”

Emma lifts one white-clad shoulder, thin smile never leaving her face. “I’m sure you’d be one of the first to know if your honey was hurt. Now tell me, what’s the big guy like in bed? And I do hope I’m not being presumptuous by saying _big_.”

“He’s fantastic,” Charles gloats, mostly because it’s true, but partly to shut her up. “And big is an understatement. I couldn’t sit comfortably for days the first time we did it.”

“No need to be crass,” Emma admonishes, making Charles grit his teeth. “Though I figured he must be pretty spectacular, given his vast experience in the matter.”

Charles is well aware of how Emma likes to stir up trouble. He’s been the object of her torture for years- the butt of her most sadistic jokes. Still, he takes the bait, if only in hopes to thwart her efforts. “I’m not exactly pure myself. I’ve been with plenty of men.”

Emma juts out her bottom lip in mock sympathy, giving a condescending pat to the top of Charles’ head. “You’ve been with _boys_ Charles. Boys would rut against a wall if it looked like it was offering. Men are different.”

“Right,” Charles scoffs. “I’m fairly certain they have the same anatomy, and I’m quite skilled at maneuvering it, so-“

“Fine,” Emma sighs. “If you don’t want my advice I understand. I just care for Erik and wouldn’t want to see his rebound relationship fizzle out so fast.”

“I am _not_ a rebou- Wait,” Charles forgets his indignation in the face of his sudden terror. “What do you mean _fizzle out_? We fizzle plenty, I assure you!”

Nodding sagely, the woman pushes him down into a chair. “That’s youth for you, Sugar. You fizzle all at once and then you go flat. That’s what older men look for in their young bimbos, you know. A few fantastic lays and then they toss them aside for the next cutie that catches their eye.”

“That’s not… Erik wouldn’t,” Charles denies adamantly. “He’s not that sort of person.”

“Of course he is. He’s handsome, smart, and successful. Pretty young things can only keep his attention for so long.”

Charles knows he’ll hate himself later, but Erik’s texts _have_ been rather scarce lately. “In theory, how might one keep an older man’s interest?”

“Simple,” Emma smiles radiantly. “You throw out all the stops. Seasoned men like young guys because they can lift their legs over their heads and go for hours. They like them because they’ll try anything at least once. So give him such a wild ride that he’ll never even think about moving on.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're late to the party, this is the second half of the update that I posted last night- so I'd go read that before diving in to this one. I'm fairly certain I have the world's best readers, because I've been getting awesome feedback. Keep it comin'.

Charles gets tired of waiting for Erik to grace him with attention again and texts Erik a quick set of instructions. _My house. Nine o’clock. You won’t regret it._

He waits twenty-seven minutes until Erik replies _Your parents?_

_Out of town_ he hastily types. Then sighs, “Not that they’d notice anything even if they were here.”

Erik doesn’t respond, but Charles takes the lack of rejection as confirmation enough.

When the older man arrives precisely on time (he’d waited nervously in the car for half an hour, but Charles would never need to know that) Charles threw open the door and greeted him with an overzealous wet kiss.

“Come on,” Charles urges, tugging him by the arm towards the bedroom. “It’s been too long.”

Erik swallows thickly, almost digging his feet in the floor. “Some people go months without sex, you know.”

“Well I’m not most people,” Charles promises. “I’d have you inside me at all hours, if it were practical.”

“I imagine we’d start to chafe,” Erik replies tightly.

Charles pushes Erik down onto his mattress with a bounce. “I’m young. I recuperate fast.”

“Of course,” the older man agrees, looking a little helpless as Charles all but rips the buttons off of his shirt. “Just… We don’t have to be at each other constantly, right?”

“Yes we do!” Charles wants to kick himself for sounding so desperate. “I mean, why wouldn’t we? I want to do everything with you.” He lowers his voice a pitch. “And I do mean _everything_.”

Charles crawls over Erik and runs his palms over his bared chest. “Everything?” Erik groans as the boy brushes over his nipples.

“Everything!” Charles gasps enthusiastically, grinding down against the growing bulge in Erik’s jeans. “What do you want? Just tell me. I’ll give you anything.”

Erik holds his hands, palms open and sweaty, at his sides, afraid of touching and kindling anymore enthusiasm. “You really don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” he breathes hot over Erik’s face, nipping at his jaw. “What? You want to spank me? Handcuff me to the bed? I have a vibrator in my closet- do you want to tease me with it until I cry?”

Admittedly Erik’s interest is peaked, but the onslaught of suggestions temporarily short out his brain. “Um…“

“Oh, I know! I’ll bend over backwards and-“

Erik rolls them so Charles is pinned beneath him, stopping the younger boy’s maddening squirming. “Can you do that?”

“Of course,” he laughs. “Would you like me to?”

Unable to work out the logistics of such a thing, Erik just shakes his head. He presses a kiss to Charles’ cheek and mumbles against his skin, “Maybe you’d prefer it if we just did it like this?"

From beneath him Charles’ expression twists in horror. “ _No_! I want to do something _exciting_!”

Erik starts to deflate- in more ways than one. “Oh…” He rolls off of him and fixes his gaze on the ceiling. “I see.”

Charles props up on his side, surveying the dismayed look on Erik’s face with confusion. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Maybe I should go,” Erik offers softly, climbing out of the bed and trying to piece his shirt back together.

“Typical,” Charles snorts, more than a little offended. “You older men are all the same.”

Erik stops short, cheeks flaring red. He spares a glance at his sudden lack of arousal in embarrassment. “Well, I- it’s not entirely my fault that it just… Stopped.”

Charles crosses his arms over his chest with a sneer. “And I guess it’s my fault, then, that it _fizzled out_.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Well did this happen with all the other men you’ve been with?” He bites back angrily.

Erik’s mortification quickly turns into mirrored irritation. “Of course not! This has never happened before!”

“So it _is_ me then!” Charles slides out of bed and marches over to where Erik’s standing in the doorway to jab a finger at his chest. “What’s so wrong with me, huh?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you just go back to seducing boys your own age? It’d make it easier on the both of us.”

Charles feels his heart constrict. “I can’t believe how wrong I was about you. I thought you were different, but you’re just another asshole who can’t _wait_ to toss me aside.”

“Toss you aside?” Erik parrots. “I’m setting you _free_ Charles, from our foolish little arrangement. I’m never going to be what you want. What you _deserve_.”

Furrowing his brow, Charles tugs Erik back into his room. “What gave you the insane idea that you weren’t what I wanted? I offered to literally bend over backwards for you.”

“I was under the impression you only offered because I wasn’t _pleasing_ you,” Erik mutters petulantly. “Because I’m old. And apparently impotent.”

Charles grins, which Erik finds a little inappropriate at the moment. “And I thought I was a rebound.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he huffs. “If I was looking for a rebound I’d hardly pick someone as difficult as a teenage boy.”

“And if I had any problem with you being older I wouldn’t have tried so hard to seduce you in the first place!” Charles slides his arms around his shoulders. “Not to brag or anything, but there are no shortage of people trying to get into my pants. I’m with you because I want to be. Because you’re a fantastic lay, among other things.”

Erik gives him a slow smile, pulling his smaller frame flush against his chest. “What are these ‘other things?’”

“Brilliant. Talented. Devilishly handsome.” Charles speaks through kisses, carding his hands through Erik’s soft hair.

“Mmm,” Erik hums against the sweet, pink mouth. “Tell me more.”

The younger boy laughs. “Well I would say full of yourself, but I’m too young to become a hypocrite just yet.”

“Yes, and I seem to call you wanted to be full of something else, earlier.”

Charles’ eyes light up like a little boy on Christmas- and maybe that’s not the best metaphor given the situation. “You’re not having anymore… _problems_ then?”

“You tell me,” Erik purrs, pushing his hips forward against Charles’. “I think I was just nervous. Worried that I wasn’t enough… And maybe a little jealous of who you’d move on to if I weren’t.”

Charles looks up through his lashes, a soft blush sweeping over his cheeks. “Normally I’d say how much I enjoy a jealous man, but to be honest I was feeling the same.”

Erik feels those dangerous feelings resurface- the kind that he’s not allowed to put a name to. “Really?”

“Really, and it’s strange.” Charles’ eyes meet Erik’s and the older man is enchanted. He can barely breathe, let alone look away. “I’ve been jealous plenty in my life, but it was always because I didn’t like the thought of losing to someone. But with you, I just get incredibly possessive, and the thought of anyone else ever touching you drives me mad.”

If there was anything keeping Erik’s arousal from spiking, it was gone now. He dives in for a kiss but Charles stops him with a gentle hand. “I know what I said before, about our relationship staying stagnant, but I think maybe I’d like to become…” Charles looks like the word makes him physically ill to even think. “ _Monogamous_.”

This time Erik didn’t give Charles the chance to stop him. He hauls the boy up into his arms, and on instinct Charles’ legs come up to wrap around that trim waist. One large palm rests securely on the swell of Charles’ ass, while the other tangle roughly in his hair to hold his head steady as Erik all but ravishes his mouth.

The way that Erik flicks his tongue past Charles’ teeth makes the boy’s skin break out into goosebumps. The rolling thrusts of the slick muscle are slow and sensual and whisk Charles’ thoughts off to what happens after the foreplay. He whimpers helplessly when Erik pulls away, only to gasp when he’s thrown on to the bed.

Erik tosses his own shirt aside before crawling up the bed, looking to Charles like a hungry lion about to sink his teeth into an antelope. The boy salivates at the imagery, perfectly willing to offer up any piece of his flesh.

Forcefully tugging the shirt over Charles’ head, Erik swoops down to latch onto a nipple, just barely grazing it with his teeth. Charles arches into the sensation, hands scrabbling for purchase on anything, nails catching on Erik’s shoulder blades. Erik smiles around the nub, perfectly content to spend hours working out all of the boy’s most sensitive spots.

Charles has other ideas.

“ _Fuck_ \- Just fuck me.”

Well, Erik can hardly turn down an invitation like that. He slithers down the pale torso- pausing once to dip his tongue into the shallow navel- and hovers over the button and zip of Charles’ jeans. Charles gives a breathy moan at the feel of hot breath through the denim, and murmurs, “Show off,” as Erik lowers the zipper with his teeth.

Erik makes quick work of making both pairs of pants disappear and throws a hurried glance around the teenager’s too-clean room. “Lube?”

“Don’t need it,” Charles insists. At Erik’s dubious look, he rolls his eyes and amends, “I got myself ready before you arrived.”

Erik trails a hand down and back, and sure enough, as his fingers slip between those cheeks he feels slick. He gives a full body shiver, which Charles notes with smug victory, and before he can even open his mouth to ask, a condom comes flying at his face.

Before Charles knows it Erik has his legs draped over the older man’s shoulders and there’s a slow slide in with a delicious burn. Charles doesn’t know what to do with his hands, with Erik just barely out of reach. He settles for twisting his fingers in his own hair, pulling to distract himself from Erik’s pinpoint focus on all of the things that turn Charles into a melty puddle of warmth and tingles.

A deep flush stretches its way down Charles’ chest, and Erik’s eyes track the journey. He feels calf muscles clenching on top of his shoulders, sees toes curling from the corner of his eyes, and he flicks a quick look up at the boy’s face just in time to see him bite his lip and scrunch up his nose and deliriously shake his head. The sight of Charles so lost and surrendered to Erik’s movements makes the older man buck his hips, setting off a domino effect of reactions.

Erik grazes Charles’ prostate, and the boy clenches deliciously around. The increased pressure makes Erik bow his back in pleasure, rising up taller on his knees and lifting Charles up so that he’s nearly balancing on his shoulders. One of the boy’s legs start to slip, sweat making skin slippery and elusive, and as Erik goes to catch the sliding limb he over reaches and tumbles forward.

The breath is forcibly expelled from Charles’ lungs- both from the impact and the sudden feeling of being so completely full and impaled. Their eyes meet- dark and almost consumed by pupils- and there are a few seconds of pause on either side, like time has stopped, or ceased to exist all together.

But then Erik rolls his hips forwards and Charles reels him in- not quite kissing, but lips touching, tongues occasionally flicking out, and steady stares never breaking. Erik begins to gradually pick up the pace, and Charles uses his legs for leverage to make Erik slide in harder.

There’s not a sound in the room besides Charles’ short grunts, Erik’s rough breaths- almost growls- and the sound of flesh against flesh.

When Charles comes he’s fairly certain that all of his usually impressive brain functions skid to a halt. Erik collapses on top of him, panting, using his elbows to keep his weight bearable.

“Who would have thought that monogamy would have gotten you so hot?” Charles laughs once he remembers what words are and how they fit together.

Erik grins with too many teeth, pushing sweaty sweeps of hair off of Charles’ forehead. “I never liked sharing. Not even as a child.”

“Well I’m all yours now.” He kisses the tip of Erik’s nose. “And you’re mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been creeping on Charles/Erik stories for a while now, and I finally decided to try my hand at my own. Lord only knows why this is the plot I chose to do first, but what's done is done I suppose. And now that my nervous rambling's come to an end, do tell me what you think of it.


End file.
